


Surround Me, Body and Soul, Pull Me into Your Glow

by oneforyourfire



Series: Oneforyourfire's Valentine's Day Fics [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Cowgirl Position, M/M, Riding, Spanking, but reverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 11:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: And Chanyeol, he really is the biggest, strongest boy Kyungsoo’s ever fucked. Really makes it count. Really makes it good. Knows how to use his hands, his mouth, his cock to make Kyungsoo feel so, so, so, so good.





	Surround Me, Body and Soul, Pull Me into Your Glow

**Author's Note:**

> credit due to that cc anon that slid into my dms and gave me Big Ideas

Sunday mornings, early, early, early, before midday reality TV shows, before visits to the produce ahjussi down the block, before laundry, before shared showers, before coffee, Sunday mornings, early, early, early in Chanyeol’s arms, they’re Kyungsoo’s favorite. His special. His by right. His time to choose. To savor. To take. Chanyeol’s to indulge. 

Choosing, savoring, taking, Kyungsoo kisses Chanyeol until there's no more sleep dusting his pretty eyelashes, until the pillow creases along his cheeks, his throat are flushed pink and warm to the touch, until every long, lean line of him is quivering and arching and cajoling—Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyungsooyah. 

And choosing, savoring, taking, Kyungsoo buries his face into the crook of Chanyeol's throat, kisses and licks and nips and coaxes Chanyeol into fingering him nice and slow and deep. Coaxes Chanyeol into lying back, lying still, letting Kyungsoo take what he needs. 

And choosing, savoring, taking, Kyungsoo shudders as he eases himself down on Chanyeol’s cock, shudders through the sweet, sweet ache of that initial stretch, how Chanyeol stuffs him completely full, full to nearly bursting. 

Kyungsoo pauses to truly revel in it all, being split open like this. The stretch, Chanyeol so impossibly heavy and hot and big. The way Chanyeol trembles helplessly through it, inside and all around. 

Groaning, trembling through the perfect, perfect drag, he shifts, balances himself, grinds forward, back, loose, loose, languid. 

He can't see him like this, has to imagine the uneven flutter of his eyelashes, the unsteady heave of his throat, the bruised tremble of his ruddy lips, the pretty blush that spreads over his cheeks, his throat, his chest whenever he's this turned on, turned on to the point of quaking. 

Kyungsoo’s always liked him best like this. Just exactly like his this. Most wonderfully indulgent and beautiful and perfect. His special. 

Beneath him, Chanyeol's thighs quake, Chanyeol's belly heaves with tiny, aborted, helpless little whimpers, and Kyungsoo swivels experimentally, savors, takes, takes. 

Chanyeol is so _loud_ —too, too loud. Gasping behind him deep and rough and devasated. He squeezes helplessly at his ass cheek, surges, tries, tries, tries. So, so indulgent. So, so _good_ —fuck. 

Kyungsoo taught him to how use those hands—had to—how to fuck him breathlese, how to hold up, open, how to pin, how to bruise, how to choke, how to spank just right. How to remind him, Yeollie, that he’s the biggest, strongest boy Kyungsoo’s ever fucked. Has to make it count. Has to make it good. Has to know how to use his hands, his mouth, his cock to make his Kyungsoo feel so, so good. 

"Come on," he rasps, head lolling back as he bounces faster, and Chanyeol whimpers behind him, squeezes harder—more than edge of pain to it. 

Kyungsoo's thighs tremble, cock jerks. 

"Come on, Yeollie. Come on. Again. Hands." 

Chanyeol lands a swat to his ass, barely any pressure, barely any sting, barely any heat, barely any threat, barely anything, but Kyungsoo shudders at the sharp, sharp jolt of pleasure, cants his hips back in lazy invitation, provocation. 

“Yeollie, again.” 

“Your skin is so—Your ass is so—Kyungsooyah.” 

“Yeollie.” 

Another. More sure. More pressure. More sting. More heat. More threat. More, more, more—what he needs. _Fuck_ , those hands, fuck the pain blooming and pulsing through his body, _fuck_ , Yeollie. 

" _Yeollie_ , hold me." 

Kyungsoo tips back, and Chanyeol surges immediately, winds around him, tugging him close. His lips drag mindlessly against his throat. A series of slurred, sweet filthy nothings—so tight, so good, fuck, Kyungsoo-yah, I love you, fuck. 

His movement is hindered like this, but Kyungsoo tries still, slams himself harder, moans through the heavy, heavy perfect friction, the perfect, perfect drag of Chanyeol's cock. 

Chanyeol stumbles down, slaps again, hard, ringing, and the sting of it has him gasping, arching, clenching, biting back a heavy, helpless moan, _fuck, fuck, fuck_. 

"Again,” he urges. 

Chanyeol strikes down even harder, moans again, so loud and so rough and so ruined. And those big, big hands mold around his ass cheek, knead into his stinging skin, nails scraping from the force of his grip. And the aching throb of it thrums through his whole body. 

Kyungsoo quells a monumental, full-body shudder, choking past a whimper. 

"Yeollie."

Inside him, Chanyeol’s cock jerks and pulses and pulses and pulses. 

And there's another spank. Resounding. Sharp. Hard. Hot. Chanyeol caressing, spreading, fucking, fucking, fucking. Kyungsoo's cock _aches_. 

He tips forward, grinds again, swiveling, tight, shuddery, wrecked, twists his hips, trembles around another moan. And Chanyeol's groan is so gratifyingly, devastatingly rough.

And Chanyeol, he really is the biggest, strongest boy Kyungsoo’s ever fucked. Really makes it count. Really makes it good. Knows how to use his hands, his mouth, his cock to make Kyungsoo feel so, so, so, so good. And Kyungsoo, really, really—

“Fuck me good, Yeollie,” he murmurs. “Make it hard. Make it good for me and make it _hard_."

And Chanyeol is surging, and his hold is tightening, and his breathing is coming harsher, and Kyungsoo is lolling back into the solidity of his hot, sweaty chest, seeing the muscles in his biceps flex and release as he lifts him, drops him, good, good, perfect. Kyungsoo clutches at them, quivers, groans, and fuck, fuck, yes—

“ _Yes_ ,” he rasps. "Yes, _yes_. Fuck me good, Yeollie. Do it _good_.”

And Chanyeol grips him harder, fucks him even _better_ , fucks him faster and deeper and meaner and harder and better and better and better. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes clench shut and his back bows and his jaw falls slack and fuck, Chanyeol really, really, really—

He paws at his own cock, curls, strokes clumsily as Chanyeol forces him down harder. And every thrust rattles through his bones, has sharp, sharp shards of pleasure tearing up his spine. 

Suspended and stuffed and helpless and trembling and moaning and fuck, fuck, fuck—

“ _Yeollie_.”

Chanyeol whimpers, quakes, falters slightly, but keeps keeps keeps fucking him over and over and over again, relentless and reverent and rough and ruined and just just _right_. 

His arms shift, fingers bumble up his face, pawing along his chin, urging. It’s a messy kiss—bitey and wet and hot and desperate—Kyungsoo swallowing down the deep, deep rumble of Chanyeol’s rasped moans. 

He bears down deliberately, shudders at the sharp spike of pressure, the answering pulse of Chanyeol’s cock. 

Chanyeol’s lips are barely moving, barely even touching, grazing in between shuddery breaths. “ _Kyungsooyah_.”

“Just like that,” he coaxes. "Just like that Yeolie. Fuck me best just like that.” 

Panting into his open mouth, Chanyeol balances himself, fucks upwards sharp and sure and steady—just like like, just just right, and Kyungsoo quivers through the shock of every heaving, hot, perfect, perfect thrust. 

Yes, Yes. Yes. 

Kyungsoo twists his fingers in his hair, drags the heel of his palm along Chanyeol’s temple, cheek, ear, feels the way his cock jerks, the way he shudders and pants. He presses down harder, more deliberate, and Chanyeol's grip is a bruising, tight, tight, beautiful thing. 

He slams him again and again and again. And Kyungsoo's body rattles, hands scramble, voice breaks, ass claps against Chanyeol’s skin as Chanyeol fucks him bruising and right and right and staggering. 

“Me,” he rasps. “Me, beautiful, beautiful Yeollie. Let me—”

Beautiful, beautiful, perfect, perfect Yeollie, he lets him, tightens his fingers around his waist instead, grinding his thumbs into the small of Kyungsoo's spine as Kyungsoo balances, rises, falls, pants, shudders, fucks himself ragged. 

His thighs burn with overexertion, hands scramble clumsily along the sweaty column of Chanyeol’s tense, tense thighs. And he rises and falls and moans and moans and moans, no elegance or rhythm to it, just the pure, selfish, frantic, overwhelming, cellular _need_ to come. 

Teetering on the precipice, just just barely holding on. So close, so close, so fucking _close_ , Yeollie, _fuck_ , babe, fuck, baby, baby, baby. 

Chanyeol swats at his ass just once more, then again—fuck, fuck, _fuck_. 

He stumbles over his waist, fists at his cock, strokes and he twists, implores. Come on, Kyungsooyah. 

The guitar calluses on his palm catch, scrape as he drags over the crown of his cock, swipes, teases, strokes, wrenching more hitching, helpless sounds from Kyungsoo's lips. And the heaving, hot, heady, heavy thrust of his cock and the rough, rough ruined rumble of his groans and the heat and the pleasure, oh, it's enough. More than enough. 

Climax crashes through him, violent and hot and breathtaking and hard and hard and hard, and he quakes through it. And pants and writhes and moans and moans and moans as it lasts and lasts and lasts. 

Dragging him closer, dragging it out, Chanyeol murmurs more sweet, filthy nothings into his ear. So pretty. So wet So tight. So perfect, Kyungsooyah. So, so, so—

He's fucking him still, but erratic and shallow, selfish, too. And the burning stretch has Kyungsoo's body trembling through oversensitivity, wanting it more, more, more. Fuck, Chanyeol, _fuck_.

He rocks back, stilted and weak, but wanting, wanting, shuddering through every sharp, sharp painful graze of Chanyeol's cock against his prostate, his rim. Blinking rapidly past the tears stinging in his eyes, murmuring, coaxing, cajoling past the scream lodged in his throat, he pulls at Chanyeol's hair, paws over his temple, his cheekbone, his earlobe, twists as he squeezes deliberately around him. So tight, he can barely breathe, barely, barely—

Kyungsoo bites back wrecked, breathy whimpers, tugs harder, arches as Chanyeol nips and sucks and kisses at all the skin he can reach. His temple, his cheek, his jaw as he fucks and fucks and fucks.

"Want you to come, Yeollie. Want to feel it. Give me, Yeollie. Fill me up." 

Chanyeol quakes beneath him, whimpers, rams into him faster, harder, more, more, more and Kyungsoo writhes his way through it, takes it and takes it and takes. Until Chanyeol's faltering, erratic, frantic thrusts stutter to a bruising halt, his perfect, perfect cock throbbing, pulsing, messy and wet and claiming, stuffing him fuller, fuller, bursting. 

“Kyungsooyah. Kyungsooyah. Fuck, baby, _fuck_.” 

Rough, rough, ragged, ruined and exhilaratingly _his_ , he trembles apart just like that, just for him. 

And the urgency bleeds from his body in heady, heavy pulses until he's crushing Kyungsoo impossibly closer. Soft with satiation and warm and solid and strong and large and inviting and heartbreakingly perfect. 

Kyungsoo twists back, and they kiss again, clumsy, weak, off-center, soft, soft, soft. Punctuated with more inane, soft, soft, sweet, slurred little nothings. _So perfect_ bleeding into _You’re so beautiful_ , mixing with _So good_ , _I love you I love you I love you_ , Chanyeol knowing just how to cradle, just how to hold, just just right. 

And melting into him, into the sweet, meandering skip of his fingers on his sweaty, flushed, come-speckled skin, Kyungsoo is lulled into a trembling Sunday morning stupor, savoring, taking, taking, taking.

**Author's Note:**

> i really fucked up the posting schedule for this  
> but happy (belated) valentines day and thanks for reading~
> 
> feel free to rt [this](https://twitter.com/oneforyourfire/status/1097222795325407232) if you wanna spread the word
> 
> im gonna be focusing on sudi again and then probably just dumping the valentines day fics as i finish them


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